THE DINER

i always went there after midnight.
it had a row of stools in front of the counter.
the place smelled of eggs and old cigarette smoke.
it was hot in there year 'round.
newspapers were free.
i drank endless cups of coffee for a dime.
the food was hot and good.
a man could get breakfast, lunch, dinner, 24/7.
it was open 24 hours a day.
city people ate there.
cops, hookers, cab drivers, factory workers...
just regular folk.
the jukebox played the oldies.
the place was interesting.
i eavesdropped on the stories,
the fights,
the tears,
the hope or hopelessness of the day or night.
now it's gone.
so many of these relics are gone.
the conversations are gone, as well.
in its place stands a taco bell.
i never go in there.
i miss the diner.